


Of Turtles and Taxes

by earth_dragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cas is an actual tax accountant, Fluff, Led Zep references because Dean, M/M, Pet Store, Romance, Sooo much fluff!, Turtles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7190717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earth_dragon/pseuds/earth_dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean usually worked with the store’s larger animals, the dogs, sometimes the cats, those were his personal preferences, and since he was the store owner he could work any section he liked best, but of course he was knowledgeable about the smaller animals as well. He walked briskly over and plastered on his best selling smile. Anyone who stared at the animals that hard was obviously interested...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Turtles and Taxes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdinessboundaries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdinessboundaries/gifts), [starlightoffandoms (destinyofdreams)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinyofdreams/gifts).



> This thing has been a BEAST! I've been at it for well over a year, tinkering and toying, deciding I liked this but not that. Of course I've also done things like have frikkin brain surgery over that year, so I've been a little distracted. This is complete and utter fluff. Enjoy! 
> 
> By the by, both my husband and my mother in law actually work with taxes. The shoebox system is a real thing!

“Isn’t she the cutest puppy you’ve ever seen?”

 

“You say that every time, Sam.”

 

“No, but I mean it this time.”

 

“You mean it every time too,” Dean replied, a little distracted. There was a dark-haired man just standing in the small pet section, staring rather forlornly at the reptiles. 

 

“Yeah, but --”

 

“Has anyone helped him?” Dean cut off Sam’s cute puppy tirade, pointing to the dark-haired man.

 

Sam finally snapped his attention away from the tiny Pomeranian puppy nestled in his lap to look up. “Oh, I dunno. Better go see.”

 

“Yeah”

 

Dean usually worked with the store’s larger animals, the dogs, sometimes the cats, those were his personal preferences, and since he was the store owner he could work any section he liked best, but of course he was knowledgeable about the smaller animals as well. He walked briskly over and plastered on his best selling smile. Anyone who stared at the animals that hard was obviously interested -- really, he didn’t know why Kevin or Charlie hadn’t been over to help the guy before now.

 

“Hello sir, I’m Dean. Can I help you find something?”

 

The dark-haired man startled, as if he hadn’t heard Dean coming toward him at all. “Huh? Oh!”

 

The man’s head whipped around, and suddenly Dean was greeted with the biggest, bluest, saddest eyes he had ever seen. It was enough to make his breath catch in his throat. “Oh! Oh hey, are you ok?”

 

“No,” the man answered shakily, instinctively. “I mean yes!” he quickly tried to recover. “I mean -- TURTLES!” he finally blurted out. “I came to look at the turtles.”

 

Dean was horrified to watch the guy’s face flush a dark crimson and his eyes actually well with tears. He felt at an utter loss as to how to proceed, how to make things better, so he just went with his store training. “I can show you the turtles, if you like,” Dean gently offered. “We have a beautiful female here --”

 

“No, I can’t!” the man snapped, suddenly agitated. He ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair, pulling at it. “I thought I could, but I just can’t. He just died. I can’t do this so soon! I can't lose them both -- it’s too much!”

 

“Oh… ok,” Dean stammered out.

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

“No, it’s ok.” But Dean’s last words were lost on the man as he hurried away, down the aisle and presumably out of the store.

 

Sam, of course, picked that moment to wander over. “Dude, what was his problem? Your salesmanship doesn’t usually suck that much.”

 

“He was upset about the turtles,” Dean answered, still bewildered, looking down the direction the man had run, as if expecting to see him suddenly appear again. “I think he just lost his.”

 

“You mean it died?”

 

“I think both of them did, yeah.”

 

“Both of them!” Sam exclaimed. “Ah man, that  _ sucks _ .” He frowned deeply.

 

Dean knew Sam was often a big clown, but he had a genuine compassion for all animals, big and small, that’s why he would make such an awesome veterinarian someday. Sam would feel bad for someone who had just lost their pet. Or pets, as this case seemed to be.

 

“Did he want to get another one?”

 

“I don’t think he could bring himself to just yet.”

 

“Aw, poor guy,” Sam lamented. “You should’ve hugged him!”

 

Dean rolled his eyes, finally turning his focus back on the ridiculous moose of a man standing next to him. “Really Sam? I couldn’t hug him!”

 

“You should have hugged him,” Sam insisted. “The guy was in mourning; he needed a hug.”

 

“The guy was a stranger crying in the reptile aisle, and I didn’t feel like being sued for sexual harassment today!”

 

“See, this is why the dogs like me better than you, because they know how cold hearted you are. You belong in the reptile aisle!”

 

Dean took a swipe at the back of Sam’s head and shoved him away, and they laughed, and ambled back to their regular stations. Dean fed the cats, and cleaned out the birds cages, and forgot about the sad, dark-haired man.

 

~~*~~

 

Dean’s least favorite job in all the store was cleaning out the fish tanks. It was a dirty, wet, smelly job, and he had to climb the mobile ladder over and over until his feet were numb. And somehow, Kevin and Charlie always managed to be busy in other stations during the days when the fish tanks were cleaned; it made him grumble.

 

Below him, Sam snickered. “The Angel fish are cute.”

 

“The Angel fish are NOT cute -- they’re aggressive little bastards -- which is why we can only keep a few to a tank. Why do we have so many of these anyway?”

 

“Just to piss you off, big brother.”

 

“Funny, I thought that’s what you were here for. Hand me the net.”

 

“Har har.” Sam handed up the net and took away the suction vacuum. “You’re just grumpy because you don’t like working with the fish.”

 

“Ya know,” Dean plunged his arm further into the top tank, angling for that last bit of stubborn scum right at the bottom. “I always seem to be the one doing the actual cleaning here. If you think the fish are so cute, why don’t you clean their tanks while I play Vanna White with all the accessories?” 

 

“You would look better in the sparkly dress,” a gruff voice answered.

 

Dean whipped around, splashing himself with water while Sam guffawed out loud. There, once again, was the dark-haired man from two weeks ago. Dean hadn’t thought much about him, but he easily remembered the man’s distinctive eyes. “You’re back.”

 

“Yeah,” the guy answered a little sheepishly, looking up at Dean from under his lashes. “I see I’m not the one who’s all wet this time.”

 

Dean looked down at himself; the front of his work apron and shirt was plastered to his chest with smelly fish tank water. He sighed. “Yeah, well…”

 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you,” the guy went on. “When you have a minute. I wanted to explain.”

 

Normally Dean would never leave a job unfinished, not even one he disliked; he didn’t pawn his work off on others. But this guy sounded so hopeful, earnest, and Dean couldn’t forget the way he had looked last time, so upset and sad. He hated to think of someone feeling so badly. He didn’t want to brush the guy off or give him a bad impression. Dean exchanged a quick look with Sam, who nodded.

 

“Yeah, no problem. I got this. I LIKE the Angel fish, remember?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes as he descended the step ladder. Sam was such a pain in the butt, but he was, fortunately, a useful pain in the butt.

 

“Angel fish?” 

 

The dark-haired man tipped his head to the side questioningly, clearly confused. It reminded Dean a little bit of a puppy and he couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. “Ignore him, he’s an idiot.”

 

“No, I’m not!” Sam huffed, gathering the tank supplies.

 

“Yes you are,” Dean reiterated. “And make Charlie come back here and help you.” 

 

He turned his attention back to the now amused blue eyed man. “Let me go grab a towel and I’ll be right back, ok.”

 

“Ok, I’ll meet you in front of the turtles again.”

 

It only took just a moment to run to the back room and grab a towel, but Dean took his time drying off and trying to make himself look presentable. This guy had come all the way back to the store, after Dean was sure he’d never see him again. The idea of it gave him a funny, nervous flutter in his stomach. He really hoped he’d be able to help him now after last time had been such a disaster. Finally, as dry as he could be, Dean tossed down the towel and ran back out to the reptile section again to find Blue Eyes waiting in front of the turtles just as he said he would be.

 

Dean smiled gently. “So, did you want to have a look at one of the turtles this time? We sold our female, but we have this nice looking male here, and we just got another new male in.”

 

“Actually, I wanted to explain. And apologize.”

 

“Oh,” Dean chewed his bottom lip, slightly uncomfortable with the idea of this man possibly pouring his heart out.  “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You just weren’t ready last time. I get it.”

 

“I… well…” the man faltered. “Still, that was awfully rude of me and I apologize. I shouldn’t have run out on you like that, without any explanation. I should not have been in here that day; it was too soon. My brother is an idiot. His heart's in the right place, but he just doesn't understand.”

 

“Your brother?”

 

“He didn’t really think I could miss my turtle all that much. But I did. I do. I had Anaximander for many years. People just think you can’t be attached to anything except dogs and cats, but they’re wrong.”

 

“Anax - i… what?” Dean stared wide-eyed at the guy. He wasn’t entirely sure this was the same guy he met two weeks ago.

 

“Anaximander. It’s Greek. He was our turtle.” The man sighed and his big blue eyes closed for just a brief moment, hiding pain. “I loved him.”

 

Dean just looked at him, studied him. The dark-haired man was strange, but earnest, and obviously felt things deeply. He liked him. Dean could just feel it in his bones that he was a good man, even if he was kinda kooky.

 

“Hey, what’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

“Castiel.”

 

“Castiel,” Dean repeated. An odd name for an odd guy, but it suited him. “I’m Dean.” He stuck his hand out for a shake.

 

Castiel took his hand in a firm, warm grip. “Yes, I remember.”

 

Dean was surprised. “You do?”

 

“Yes, you were kind to me last time, and I was rude to you. It’s why I wanted to come back, to find you and apologize. The young man, Kevin, he said you were working with the fish today; he told me where to find you.”

 

Dean felt the back of his neck heat up. Castiel didn’t owe him an apology. For goodness sake, the guy just lost his beloved pet, and here he was worried about being rude to some guy he met in a pet store! Yeah, he was a good person. 

 

“Well, um, now that you’re here, is there something I can help you with? Was there anything you wanted to look at?”

 

“Not right now,” Castiel answered. “The only reason I was here before was because my brother suggested I get a new pet right away, but I think it’s too soon for that. I want to consider my options first. Take some time.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Yeah, I completely understand that.”

 

“When I do feel ready, I’ll come back.”

 

Dean couldn’t help but smile at that. Castiel sounded so sincere, like he was making a promise. “I’ll help with whatever you need, ok Castiel?”

 

Castiel smiled and everything about his face just brightened. “Thank you Dean.”

  
  


~~*~~

“This sucks.”

 

“I know.”

 

“No, dude, I mean this SUCKS!”

 

“No, no I get it,” Sam tried to console him as much as he could over the phone. “You hate tax season. Everyone hates tax season.”

 

“Not the way I do.”

 

“Well, that’s what you get for owning a successful business, makes your life much more complicated.”

 

“Why did I hire you again?” Dean groused, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Because I’m your brother and you love me. And because you’re trying to help me pay for college,” Sam immediately piped back. Dean could tell Sam was grinning on his end of the phone.

 

“I don’t love you, you’re a butt! I just need a licensed veterinarian in the shop. It’s the only reason I’m putting up with you.”

 

“You lie. You lie so hard, Dean.”

 

“I’m hanging up now.”

 

“Don’t lose your shoebox. I need the college money.” Sam snickered.

 

“Hanging up NOW!” Dean disconnected the call and glared at the phone. He rolled his eyes. Sam was such a butt! 

 

Of course he hated tax season. It was complicated enough for the regular working joe, but when you owned your own business, it was twice as bad. 

 

And after what had happened to him with the last guy… Dean shuddered. No doubt about it, he was nervous to even be here, but he had to do something.

 

He knew he should have a better filing system than an old shoe box, but to be fair, he at least kept different shoe boxes for different years -- that had to count for something, right? He had electronic copies of all the important papers on file at the store, and the hard copies were in the shoe box. It would have to do.

 

He just hoped this new accountant would be better than the last guy because he was not getting screwed over again! His last accountant had not only been bad at his job, the guy had actually been a criminal. One of the worst moments of Dean’s entire life was when he learned that he had been swindled out of what was to have been Sam’s safety net, the money he had been setting aside for his little brother’s education. Never in his entire life had Dean felt more like a failure than in that moment, never had he felt more like giving up than when he had learned how he had let his brother down, even if it wasn’t technically his fault. Dean couldn’t even let himself think about it; it gave him heartburn and kept him awake at night.

 

So, even if it took every last cent he had, Dean was going to make sure he had a way to pay for Sam’s college expenses. Sam could be a butthead, he was still right -- he was Dean’s brother, and Dean loved him with all his heart. He was willing to move mountains if he to. 

 

But what accountant ran his business out his house? Some C. Novak apparently. Dean just desperately hoped the guy knew what he was doing. And that he wasn’t another criminal.

 

Dean felt a little sketchy as he climbed out of his car and carried his precious shoe box up the sidewalk. To be fair, it looked like a perfectly nice house in a perfectly nice neighborhood, and he knew it was perfectly possible for someone to have a legitimate office in their home. Dean knew he was just being paranoid and nervous. 

 

He steeled himself and rang the bell.

 

And when the door opened he was greeted by none other than blue-eyed, turtle-loving Castiel!

 

“Dean?”

 

“Castiel?” Dean exclaimed, astounded.

 

“Yes, come in. I assume you’re my two o’clock appointment.”

 

Dean stepped inside in a daze. “You… you’re C. Novak. Novak accounting!”

 

Castiel smiled, closed the door, and absentmindedly stroked the wooden frame surrounding the  picture of a beautiful auburn-haired woman hanging near the entry way. “Yes. I’m a tax accountant and personal financial consultant. I take it you’re Dean Winchester. I didn’t know you owned that pet store.”

 

“Yeah, I…” Dean felt his cheeks redden. He didn’t like to talk about it, but he knew he’d have to answer some honest questions if Castiel was possibly going to be handling his finances. “My parents had actually owned the shop, so when they died it came to me and my brother.”

 

Castiel nodded, sympathy washing over his kind face. “I see. Well, we can talk more about that in my office. I see you have the standard shoebox with you.”

 

Dean cringed and hugged the box protectively to his chest. “Yeah, it sucks. I know I need to keep better files. I have all this stuff on computer at the shop. I just thought this would be a place to start.”

 

Castiel laid a comforting hand against Dean’s arm. “Believe me, this is more than a lot of people bring in. We can work from this, at least for now. Let’s head back and start outlining some stuff. We’ll have a lot to work on.”

 

Dean took a deep breath. He didn’t know why, but he felt better knowing Castiel was going to be heading this up, taking care of things. Castiel had been so earnest that day he had come all the way back to the store just to apologize. He hadn’t even owed an apology, not really, but he was conscientious enough to come back and explain himself anyway; and in Dean’s book, that counted for a lot. Dean could handle animals, and he was decent enough with people, but numbers were not his forte. He was placing his trust in this man’s hands. 

 

“Ok, let’s go.”

 

_ ~~*~~ _

 

“So, what did you find out?”

 

“Dude, Cas is the best!”

 

“Cas?”

 

“Yeah, it’s Castiel,” Dean explained excitedly into the phone. “You know, the guy who was crying about the turtles. He’s the accountant.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah! And Sammy, he is so good! He thinks we can pull an additional $6000 back on our business taxes this year. Then we can work on setting up a proper financial plan. He can help us set aside for your college.”

 

Dean was glad he was sitting alone in his car; he didn’t want anyone to see him getting misty eyed at the thought that this could really be happening, that they were really making serious plans for his baby brother’s future. And he knew it wouldn’t be happening without Cas’ help. He owed the guy big time.

 

“Dean, that’s… that’s…” Sam didn’t know what to say. His voice faded off on the other end of the phone. It was a big thing when Sam didn’t know what to say.

 

“I know, Sammy, I know. I’ll have to meet with him several times, we have a lot to go over. He’ll be coming by the store to look at things as well. And I promised to go through the house and see if there was anything else that might be of use, too.”

 

“Sounds like we’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

 

“Yeah. Oh, but dude, Cas was so angry when he found out what Swinton had done, the way he was cheating people. He’s taken over some of Swinton’s old clients before, so he knows what to look for, how to help. But man, this looks so much better than it did!”

 

“He sounds like a good guy, Dean.”

 

“I think he really is.” Dean trailed off, thinking about the dark look that had crossed Cas’ face when he learned of the way Swinton had cheated them, stolen their money, and lied to authorities. The man had been so angry on Dean and Sam’s behalf, and then so determined to help them recover, as if their mission was now his mission. Cas had gone on to explain that he wasn’t the first ex-Swinton client Castiel had had to repair, so he at least had experience and knowledge of the kinds of things he would need to look for.

 

Castiel had also muttered that, if it were within his power, he would smite Swinton for what he had done to Dean and Sam, and so many other people. Dean knew right then that Cas was probably one of the best people he was ever going to meet.

 

“When’s he gonna want another turtle?”

 

“What?” Dean asked, suddenly pulled out of his own thoughts. “Oh, I dunno. Why?”

 

“Because we gotta give him one,” Sam declared. “We gotta give him the best turtle we have! What about that one with the big green shell?”

 

“Sam, they all have big green shells! That’s not helpful at all!”

 

“You know the one I mean.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed. “No, I don’t know the one you mean. I can’t believe we’re sending you to college for this!”

 

Sam laughed too, a little breathlessly and so hopeful. “Me either, big brother.”

  
  


~~*~~

 

“This is remarkably organized for a shoebox system.”

 

“Thank you! Thank you Cas!” Dean smirked at his younger brother.

 

Sam scowled, clearly in disbelief. “How can you possibly make heads or tails of any of that?”

 

“Well, it’s already in shoeboxes, for one thing. And for some people that is actually a system,” Cas explained. 

 

He was sitting in the store room office floor, still in his suit and even his trench coat, surrounded by boxes and various stacks of papers and envelopes. It was funny how, after only a couple of visits, he looked perfectly at home amidst the clutter of the Winchester’s life. Dean enjoyed having him at the store, particularly when he praised Dean’s organizational skills in front of a disbelieving Sam.

 

“You’d be surprised how many people come to me with nothing but stacks of loose paper, or sometimes with nothing at all. As if they expect me to pull the numbers out of thin air, like magic. Or sometimes it’s the opposite, sometimes people come in with far too much, having saved every single scrap of paper with every meaningless scribble you can imagine. People want deductions for the ingredients they used to make their dead grandmother’s homemade chicken and noodles.”

 

Dean’s eyes went wide. “I sense there’s a story there.”

 

“There is and I’m not going to retell it,” Castiel growled.

 

“Ookaay,” Dean conceded, laughing. “So, you were praising me on my shoebox system.” he turned and mockingly beamed at Sam.

 

In true little brother fashion, Sam stuck his tongue out at him.

 

“Yes,” Cas answered, quirking an amused eyebrow, but otherwise pointedly ignoring the brothers’ antics. “As I said, it’s remarkably organized for such a system. As I’m going through the boxes I’m finding more and more, and thankfully each box is clearly labeled. You’ve saved the important documents and not saved extraneous scraps.”

 

“Extra-an-e-ous?” Dean laughed, exaggerating the word, tickled by Cas’ use of it. 

 

Really, the whole thing was just ridiculous. At six feet tall and well muscled, Castiel was not a small man by any means, and yet he looked like such a little kid sitting on Dean’s floor with his rumpled hair, his big blue eyes, and his oversized coat. It seemed ridiculous to hear such big words coming out of his mouth, and it made Dean laugh.

 

Cas lifted the side of his mouth into a lopsided grin. “Ok, if you don’t like extraneous, I could use ‘superfluous’, maybe.”

 

Dean threw his head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

 

Castiel tipped his head down and chuckled, grinning like he had never been more pleased.

 

Sam observed them both, and just wondered.

 

~~*~~

 

“Do you think the box turtles are lonely?”

 

“What?” Kevin whipped his head around to stare at Dean.

 

“The turtles,” Dean replied. “Should they be paired together?”

 

Kevin raised an exasperated eyebrow. “Why?”

 

“I dunno. I just thought… maybe they’re lonely? The box turtles don’t seem to be doing as well as they used to and I’m a little worried. That’s all.”

 

“Why are you asking me? You're the one who owns the store -- shouldn't you know? Or Sam?”

 

“I don’t wanna bother Sam right now, he's busy,” Dean brushed off Kevin’s questions brusquely. Sam had been asking him weird questions lately, about life, and dating, and settling down, and Dean couldn’t handle that right now. So he was asking Kevin about turtles.

 

Kevin huffed. “I don’t think turtles can get lonely,” he finally answered “They’re just reptiles.They’re not like cats or dogs.”

 

Dean felt a knot form inside his stomach. Well that...that was just all wrong. Of course turtles could be lonely. Why did he hire Kevin, again?

 

“No. No! See, that’s all wrong,” he declared. “It doesn’t matter whether or not they’re reptiles. They don’t have to be cats or dogs to be lonely! We pair the snakes together sometimes, don’t we? Well, what if the box turtles are lonely? Doesn’t that make sense?”

 

Kevin just peered at Dean as if he were crazy.

 

“Look, I can show you.” Dean took Kevin’s elbow and steered him over towards the reptile aisle to stand in front of the display of box turtles. He was right. He knew he was right. He could prove it. “Look at this guy here.” Dean pointed to a male box turtle in a top left enclosure. “He likes to climb up on top of his fake rock so he can bask in his fake sun, ya know, the heat lamp.”

 

Kevin rolled his eyes so hard they might have actually been in danger of falling out of his head.  “I know what the heat lamp is.”

 

“Right,” Dean plunged on ahead. “We’ve had him for quite a while, but a few weeks ago we sold his mate, and ever since then he hasn’t been climbing out onto his rock, he hasn’t been basking. What if he’s lonely because he misses his mate?”

 

He pointed to the tank below the male box turtle. “And what about this new guy down here? He only came in about a month ago. And at first, he was doing fine: ate well, slept well, played with his toys, had regular bowel movements.”

 

“I do not need to know about turtle bowel movements!” Kevin groused.

 

“But not any longer,” Dean carried on, pointedly ignoring Kevin’s last comment. “And do you know what happened?”

 

“No, Dean, what happened?” Kevin asked, not even trying to fake enthusiasm. 

 

“We moved them away from each other!” he proclaimed. “See, the first male and this male never shared an enclosure because the first guy already had a mate with a female -- but then we sold her. And this guy here is fairly new, but they were in enclosures right next to each other; they could see each other and became friends. I bet they could communicate in their own turtle-like way.” Dean shook his head sadly. “Really, we’ve been awfully mean to this guy -- first we took away his mate, then we took away his other mate. I mean, his friend.”

 

“Are you high, Dean?” Kevin asked, his eyes narrowing, the veins popping out on his forehead. 

 

“No, I’m not high!” Dean exclaimed. “I’m telling you, I think the turtles are lonely!”

 

“Ok, so put them back, problem solved!”

 

“You… you really think I should?” Dean asked, suddenly unsure. “I mean, yeah, I could always move them back. But what if it doesn’t work out for them? What if they’ve both been away for too long and now they can’t get along or something? They’ve been through a lot of turtle trauma, would it just mess them up more if I put them together?”

 

“Oh, for the love of…” Kevin violently turned away, having finally had enough. Then he yanked the walkie talkie from his back pocket and loudly paged over the store intercom: “SAM WINCHESTER TO THE REPTILE AISLE -- YOUR BROTHER  DEFINITELY NEEDS HELP!”

 

~~*~~

“You promised.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You  _ promised _ , Dean.”

 

“I KNOW, Sammy! Damn!” Dean all but growled. Yes, he had promised, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

 

“We don’t even know if we’re gonna find anything up here or not.” Dean swept his fingers through what had to be an inch thick layer of dust across the top of an old dresser.

 

“We don’t know we won’t either, though,” Sam reasoned. “Besides, you don’t want to disappoint Cas.”

 

No, Dean did not want to disappoint Cas. Or Sam. If there was even the slightest chance there could be something useful in any of their parents’ old papers, then he would sort through them. Even if it meant spending a Saturday stuck up in the attic, covered in grime and dust, and combing through old memories he’d just as soon leave tucked away in the dresser drawers.

 

“We could call Charlie; she said she would help,” Sam offered.

 

Dean could see he was trying to be gentle, cautious. He appreciated the gesture, and Charlie’s offer, but this was something they really needed to do on their own, somehow it didn’t feel right to have others going through or handling their parents’ things. “Nah,” he declined, pulling out the first drawer with more gusto than he felt. “Let’s get to it.”

 

“Ok,” Sam agreed. “I’ll start with the trunk then. I’ll just… pull out any papers that look like they could be of use -- like business or financial stuff.” 

 

For just a moment Dean’s heart swelled with gratitude. Both he and Sam knew that most of their parents’ pictures and personal affects were in the trunk, and with Sam offering to go through it and set the business papers aside, Dean immediately understood this was Sam’s way of looking out for him, taking on the burden so he didn’t have to. 

 

Dean was the big brother though, he couldn’t just let him do that. “Sam, you don’t have to --”

 

“Dean, just shut up and start with the dresser!”

 

“Hey whoa! When did you become the boss here?” Dean protested, because even though he knew and appreciated what Sam was trying to do, he couldn’t let his kid brother get away with that kind of attitude unchecked.

 

“Go find me college money, jerk! You’re just standing there… slacking!” Sam waved his hands around at Dean’s lack of movement, as if to illustrate his point.

 

Dean huffed, relenting, and slamming the dresser drawer down to the floor with more force than strictly necessary. “I am not your Sugar Mama! Now go fetch me beer, bitch!”

  
  


~~*~~

 

“Hello Dean.” Cas smiled brightly upon seeing who was at the door. “I wasn’t expecting you. You didn’t have to come all the way over here for this. Please come in.” Cas stepped back and opened the door, ushering Dean inside.

 

“No, no worries. How’s it going?”

 

“I’m well. And yourself?”

 

“Good. I’m good,” Dean answered, only slightly nervous, although he really didn’t know why. He had a perfectly good reason for being there. “I wanted to drop those numbers off for you.”

 

Cas motioned for Dean to follow him back through to the kitchen. Dean knew that Cas usually kept his clients to the special office space he had set up in the living room and entryway, where he did his work. He was one of the few people Cas ever just invited into his home, and it made him feel good to know that. “I was just making myself a cup of tea. Would you like some?”

 

“Oh, uh, sure. Thanks.”

 

Dean watched Cas’ sure, steady hands pour steaming water over the carefully placed tea bags. He knew Cas did more than just taxes and accounting, things like building a lot of his own furniture. There was far too much strength and muscle in his arms and hands for him to just be a paper pusher. Dean could appreciate someone with brains and brawn.

 

“You could have just called with those numbers,” Cas said, handing Dean the cup. “You didn’t need to make a special trip. Still, I’m always glad to see you.” 

 

Cas smiled, so genuine and honest, and Dean felt the warmth of it go through him like liquid, spreading out and soaking into each of his limbs. It was the best he could remember feeling in a long time. 

 

“Actually, I had a few things I wanted to talk to you about, if you have the time.”

 

Cas set his teacup down and focused intently on Dean. “Of course.”

 

“Well, first, I do have those account numbers. Here.” Dean handed him a piece of paper with several numbers written down on it.

 

Cas looked them over briefly and nodded in approval. “Thank you, this will be very helpful.”

 

“And something else.” Dean reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out an old, yellowing envelope. “Honestly, I’m not sure what all this means. It wasn’t in one of my shoe boxes. Sam and I found it in the attic; I found it with some of my parents’ old stuff. You told me to go through old things and…” 

 

Cas laid a quick, comforting hand on his arm and Dean sighed heavily. He hated talking about his dead parents, and by now Castiel knew it. The man flashed him a warm smile. “I’ll take a look at it, see if it’s important.”

 

For a moment Dean was just so grateful he couldn’t even speak. But eventually he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks, I appreciate that.” He passed the envelope off to Cas and, strangely, felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Normally, he didn’t like sharing any part of his parents’ personal lives with anyone other than Sam. Technically, he supposed this was just business, but somehow he knew instinctively that Castiel would treat the entire process as deeply personal, and therefore treat everything it encompassed with respect. Even something as small as an aging envelop with Dean’ mother’s handwriting across the front.

 

“Was there anything else? You said you had a couple of things you needed to speak to me about.”

 

“Yeah, actually.” Dean ran a jittery hand down his face. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous, but it felt like he was breaching a slightly forbidden subject. He began to amble back towards the living room area. Cas followed him without comment until they found themselves standing in front of the sadly empty turtle enclosure still sitting upon the low, beautifully homemade bookcase. “I’d like to talk to you about this, Cas. If it’s ok.”

 

“About my turtle?” Cas tilted his head, clearly confused.

 

“Turtles in general,” Dean answered. “I figured, since you had one for so long, and you loved him so well, then you must know a lot about them.”

 

“I guess,” Cas answered slowly.  “I guess I’m pretty good with them.”

 

“Yeah, see, I have a pair of box turtles that, frankly, I don’t think are doing so hot. I’m kind of worried about them.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Well, they used to be in enclosures that sat right next to each other, so they used to see each other all the time. And I think they were friends, maybe they even liked each other. But it’s… complicated.”

 

“Complicated how?”

 

“Well,” Dean quickly licked his lips. “One of the males used to have a mate. A female. But she sold several weeks ago. And he wasn’t quite the same after that.” Cas sucked in a wounded breath, and Dean couldn’t bear the sound of it, so he rushed on. “We got in another turtle, another male, and at first we put him in the enclosure right next to the first male. And that seemed to help both of them, I think. They never shared an enclosure, but they were right next to each other.”

 

“And that helped.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

Dean nodded. “But then the second male was moved and now both turtles seem to be floundering again.”

 

Cas dropped his heartbreakingly sad eyes to the floor. “Sounds like they’re lonely.”

 

“Yes!” Dean swiftly agreed, gratified that his theory was confirmed. “See, that’s what I said! But one of my employees said he didn’t think so because they were just reptiles. But I said that’s crap. Of course turtles can be lonely!”

 

“Did you move the second male back?” Cas asked, his huge eyes looking up at Dean for any kind of hope.

 

Dean nodded. “I did. I was nervous about it, though, I have to admit. Those little turtles have been through a lot, you know? What if it just didn’t work out for them?” He rubbed hard at the back of his neck, trying to wipe away the sweat that was suddenly collecting there. He hated how his heart was pounding. “I thought if they could see each other again, be friends, they would be happy.”

 

Cas nodded decisively. “Makes sense, yes.”

 

“But they’re not.”

 

Cas’ entire face fell. “Oh?”

 

“Not really,” Dean tried to explain. “It’s like it’s not enough anymore. I think they really need to be together, like in the same enclosure.”

 

“You can put them in the same enclosure.”

 

“Yeah, but for how long?” Dean asked. “How long until someone comes along and buys only one of them? And then the other is left behind again?”

 

For a long, quiet minute both Dean and Cas just stared at the empty glass enclosure sitting on top of the book case, their hands resting closely together on the polished surface.

 

“Mates shouldn’t be separated,” Cas said sadly, knowingly, as he gazed with haunted eyes to the beautiful woman in the picture hanging by the door. 

 

“No, they shouldn’t,” Dean agreed. There was still so much about Cas that he didn’t know, but he knew loss. He understood that tone of voice, that undercurrent of pain, and how a person could work and work to fill the void their entire lives and yet still never really fill anything at all. Fooling yourself could be so easy sometimes. 

 

“Maybe…” Cas took a deep breath and he turned to fully face Dean. “Maybe you could find somebody who would take them together?” He suggested, a quiet hopefulness turning his eyes the perfect cerulean blue. “Somebody who understood that they were a mated pair, even if they were a little unusual.”

 

Dean nodded, and he couldn’t help the soft upward curl of his lips. “That’s my hope.” 

 

~~*~~

 

“The new parrot is so cute!”

 

“Yeah, she is.”

 

“No, seriously Dean, she -- wait,” Sam stopped short. “Wait, you agree with me?”

 

“Well, yeah.” Dean shrugged. “She’s pretty. She’s got a lot of green and blue in her wings. And she talks. Somebody will want her soon.”

 

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and stared Dean down. “Since when do you ever agree with me?”

 

“What?” Dean asked defensively, turning away to feed the parakeets. “I just said she’s pretty. Geeze, Sam, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

 

“But you never agree with me when I say the animals are cute.”

 

“I think the animals are cute,” Dean groused. “I just don’t go around saying it every five minutes like you do!”

 

“Nuh uh,” Sam smirked. He yanked the bird seed bag out of Dean’s hands. “Something has had you all smiley for weeks now. You’re  _ happy _ . Why are you happy?”

 

Dean grabbed for the bag, but Sam was just a couple of inches taller and could hold it out of his reach. Dean huffed. “I’m not happy!”

 

“You’re happy!”

 

“Well, I’m damn well not now! Gimme the bag, Sam.”

 

Dean pinched hard under Sam’s ribs and Sam squealed and twisted away, but he kept the bag tucked safely up under his arm. The birds were forgotten; the original discussion was forgotten. Now Dean had his honor to defend.

 

“Gimme the bag!”

 

“NO!”

 

Dean leapt up on his brother’s hunched back. Sam staggered for a moment under the weight, his knees buckling. 

 

“Get off me, Dean!”

 

“Submit little brother!”

 

“I wasn’t aware you had a permit to sell monkeys.”

 

Sam and Dean both collapsed to the floor with a hard OOMF! The bird seed bag spilled out everywhere underneath them.

 

“Cas!” Dean smiled up happily.

 

“Aw Dean, look what you did!”

 

“Shut up, Sam!” Dean struggled to roll off his brother’s back and stand up amidst the slippy, crushed seeds. “Besides you started it.”

 

Normally Dean wouldn’t find the situation quite so amusing; he would be scowling just like Sam and the other customers who were now creeping around the corner of the aisle to peek at what had happened. After all, a nearly full bag of wasted bird seed cost money, and really, he knew it looked bad for the store owners to be rough-housing on company time, in full view of the customers. But Cas was smiling and laughing, so really, it couldn’t be that bad. 

 

“Heya Castiel,” Sam finally greeted, still sitting on the floor.

 

“Hello Sam, I would ask how your day is going, but…”

 

“Not as good as his, apparently.” Sam indicated Dean, who was still smiling.

 

“Oh?” Castiel turned back to Dean, his expression open, curious. “Have you had a good day, Dean?”

 

Dean suddenly felt himself blushing but he didn’t know why. “Well, I…”

 

“He’s happy about something, but he won’t tell me what,” Sam piped up, carefully climbing back to his feet.

 

“What? Is it a crime to be happy now? I just feel good today, that’s all! Geeze!”

 

“Well, perhaps I can make your day even better. I need to show you some papers.” Castiel held up a file folder. “You said we could have a working lunch in your back room.”

 

“Yeah! Yeah, right this way.” Dean guided Cas around the spilled bird seed. “Hey, you can get this, can’t you?”

 

“I guess,” Sam replied, suspicion coloring his tone. His eyes narrowed down to slits. “I’ll get the broom and dustpan. And Kevin”

 

“Thanks Sammy!”

 

“Hey?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You knew Castiel was coming today?”

 

“Yeah. He called. Said there were some papers he wanted to show me, and he didn’t want to wait. Didn’t I tell you?”

 

“No, you didn’t,” Sam answered.

 

“Oh,” Dean looked genuinely surprised. “I’m sorry. I must have forgotten.”

 

“No biggie.” Sam gave a small smile, his question having finally been answered. “Just glad you’re happy about it.” 

 

~~*~~

 

“Your parents made some smart financial decisions, Dean, so they helped set you and Sam up well. Be thankful for that. Years ago they purchased a series of bonds that are now mature, or at least mostly mature, and can be cashed in -- those will help pay for the first years of Sam’s college. And you can borrow against either your 401k or your mortgage to help pay for anything that’s left. As an alternative, Sam could also take out student loans. Of course, any of those things  would have to be paid back, but honestly, I don’t believe either of you should have to incur much debt.”

 

Dean held the papers Cas had presented to him with shaking hands. He could not believe his ears. He couldn’t begin to believe what was in front of him. “You… you mean…”

 

Cas preened, clearly happy to be delivering this news. “That old envelope you found a few weeks ago was a small gold mine, Dean Winchester, all those old bonds were inside! And it’s actually a damn good thing your last financial “consultant” -- Cas actually did the finger quotes and Dean cracked up -- “didn’t know anything about it. I can’t even begin to imagine how that bastard would have cleaned you out if he had known about these.”

 

Dean tried to get a handle on his shallow breathing; he was in serious danger of hyperventilating. “What does all this mean, though? I still don’t quite understand”

 

“Wait! It gets better,” Cas rushed on. “Since I’ve been looking through all your records and receipts, I can guarantee that I can get you a better tax return every year than you’ve been getting. For the upcoming year I can get you at least an additional $6000 dollars back, possibly more. I’m sure some of that money has to go back into the business, but you could put some of it into a savings for Sam’s college too. You’d be surprised how that starts to add up if you did so year after year. And this is just your taxes, Dean. I can do Sam’s personal taxes too. I’m sure I can get him a better personal return and he can put some more back in his own savings. Add that to what he’s already managed to save back and -- “

 

“Cas!” Dean cried out. He just couldn’t take anymore. He flung himself at the brilliant, blue-eyed man sitting across from him.

 

Castiel let out a startled squeak and caught him up in his arms. “Dean? Dean are you alright?”

 

Dean was very much not alright. He was breathing far too hard and heavy, and trying not to cry into the man’s trench-coated shoulder. He just squeezed harder, buried his face in the man’s shoulder, and hoped Cas could understand everything he was trying to say without words. It must have worked because after a moment Cas’ arms came up around him, warm and tight, and comfortable like home.

 

“I’m so glad I could help you, Dean.”

 

Cas’ deep voice rumbling up against Dean’s heart felt amazing, and Dean knew he needed to pull away. He unclenched his arms and slid back, blushing. “Yeah… yeah. God, Cas, thank you so much! I never thought -- I can’t believe I can finally make this up to Sammy! I screwed up so bad last time.”

 

“Hey, no! That was NOT you!” Cas objected, gripping Dean’s arms. “Swinton was a scumbag, and you weren’t the only person he robbed. What he did was criminal, Dean, and you gave testimony that helped put him prison. Don’t you dare blame yourself for what he did!”

 

Cas was vehement and it was nice to hear him say such things. It felt good to have someone on his side. Dean believed him. “Ok. Ok, yeah. Still, I can’t thank you enough, Cas. And I can’t wait to tell Sammy!”

 

~~*~~

 

“Sam. Sammy! It’s ok!”

 

“It’s not. It’s not ok. Dean! It’s…” Sam was crying, utterly beside himself.

 

Dean had never seen his little brother so happy.

 

“How did you do this?” 

 

Sam sniffed and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. It was a childish gesture and Dean was reminded of his little Sam, the one who would come to him with scraped knees and nightmares. He would have done anything for that kid. He’d do anything for the big kid sitting on the floor in front of him now.

 

“Aw, I just got lucky. This wasn’t really me; it was Cas. Mom and Dad set us up pretty good, ran a good business, passed it down to us, made some good financial decisions. But it was Cas that put it all together. He figured out where to pull the resources.”

 

Sam chuckled. “He got all that from your stupid shoe boxes?”

 

“Hey now!” Dean pretended to be affronted. “My stupid shoe boxes are sending you to college.”

 

Sam gave another watery chuckle. “Yeah, they are. Your shoeboxes and Mom and Dad’s old envelopes.” 

 

Sam smiled, so very happy and grateful and it was just about everything Dean could want in the world.

 

“How are we ever gonna pay him back for this? I mean, how can we possibly?”

 

“Well, we are paying him.” Dean reasoned. “It’s his job.”

 

“Yeah, but that’s not the same and you know it.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, because Sam was right, it wasn’t the same. They owed Cas everything. “Who would have thought the weird, dorky guy crying over his dead turtle would have changed our lives so much, huh?”

 

“ _ Ye-aah _ , who would have thought.” Sam shoulder bumped him.

 

“What?”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t  _ ‘what’  _ me, Sam. If you got something to say -- say it,” Dean huffed. “You’ve been hinting around at something for weeks. Out with it!”

 

“Well, I just… Cas has been great! Really great!”

 

“Yeah…” Dean urged, because he knew Sam wasn't getting to the point.

 

“Cas has been especially good for you,” he finally said. “And I’m glad to see it. You’ve been happy lately. You deserve to be happy, Dean.”

 

“But…” Dean prompted. Again. Because he could still tell Sam hadn't come all the way around to his point.

 

Sam gave him a wide-eyed, puppy dog stare, trying to convey his innocence.

 

“BUT…” Dean growled, every bit the older brother.

 

“But you could be happier!”

 

Dean signed.

 

“And Cas could be happier. Both of you deserve to be happy, Dean!”

 

Dean resisted the urge to curl in on himself. Yeah, being around Cas made him happy, on a lot of levels actually, but that didn’t mean he should saddle the guy down. He knew Sam meant well, had his best interests at heart, but sometimes it just wasn’t that easy. He and Cas each had their own lives and their own businesses to run; they were busy, stressed. He knew each of them came with their own baggage. Sometimes being the grown up just plain sucked.

 

“At least think about it, ok Dean?” Sam prodded. “I’m serious. I’ve never seen you smile like the way you smile when you’re with him. Maybe it would be a lot to handle, but wouldn’t it be worth it?”

 

“Sammy…” 

 

“Cas is worth it.”

 

“I KNOW he’s worth it!” Dean exclaimed, realizing too late that he just completely confirmed everything Sam had suspected.

 

Sam shoulder checked him again, more gently this time. “You know, just because you’re the second turtle, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you in his enclosure.”

 

Dean felt his heart bottom out into his stomach. “I’m gonna fire Kevin, swear to God!”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

Dean sighed, relenting. “No, I’m not.”

 

~~*~~

 

“Oh hey, Cas!”

 

“Sam, how are you? Did Dean tell you the news?” 

 

Cas found himself swept up into another Winchester hug and squeezed to within an inch of his life. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Heh, I assume you know then.”

 

“God, Cas! What would we have done without you, man?”

 

“The numbers were all there, they just needed to be pulled together. Dean cares for you so much, Sam. He would have done almost anything to make sure you could have this.”

 

Sam smiled almost ruefully. “I know, believe me, I know. Dean has sacrificed his whole life for me.”

 

“He’s a good man.”

 

Sam pulled himself up to his fullest height and stood proudly. “He’s the best!”

 

Cas agreed with him wholeheartedly, but couldn’t quite get the words to come out. He changed tack instead. “So, uh, Dean wanted to show me something? The store is closed now, isn’t it? That’s why you had to let me in.”

 

“Yes, it is. Dean wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be interrupted. What he has to show you is really important, Cas.” Sam looked right down into Castiel’s face, trying his best to make him understand. “So… so I’m asking you to please pay careful attention, ok. Really listen to what he’s saying to you.”

 

Cas’ heart fluttered hard inside his chest. “Of course.”

 

“Good.” Sam smiled. “He’s in the reptile section.” 

 

Castiel purposely made his steps slow as he walked towards the reptiles; his heart was fluttering. He needed a moment to collect himself. Dean heard him coming, though, his shoes tapping loudly in the strange quiet of the large building. The green eyed man gave him a brilliant smile as he rounded the corner.

 

“Cas!”

 

“Hello Dean.”

 

Hey, c’mer. I wanna show you something.”

 

Cas came to stand beside Dean, because how could he not? And of course they were in front of the turtles. He knew they would be. He knew this section of the store; Cas had visited it often enough on his own. But he instinctively knew this is where they would end up anyway.

 

“This is Page and Plant.”

 

“Page and Plant?” Cas tipped his head far over to the side curiously.

 

“Hey, you name your turtle after old Greek philosophers, I name mine after 70s rock gods.”

 

Cas snorted. “Yeah, well… I didn’t actually name mine.”

 

Dean stood quiet, turning trusting eyes to him. And Cas did trust him, which was the most amazing thing. He rarely ever spoke to anyone of his past pain. But it was ok if Dean knew about it. Dean had his own too.

 

“Anaximander belonged to my wife, originally. She had been a philosophy major in college when she got him. She thought the name was fitting.”

 

“It was a mouthful.” Dean smiled gently.

 

“It was a mouthful,” Cas agreed. “I’d never had a turtle before, but she loved him, and I learned to love him too. Whenever Daphne thought I was working too hard, she would take Anaximander out and set him down to roam around on the papers on top of my desk to distract me. She knew I would have to take a break and pay attention to him because sometimes he would bite the W2 forms.”

 

Dean laughed and Cas found that the sound wasn’t painful. In fact, the sound helped to gladden his heart. “It was actually quite funny.”

 

“Daphne sounds like she knew what she was about.”

 

The corners of Cas’ mouth curled up sweetly. It wasn’t so bad to think back about Daphne when he could do so standing beside Dean. He didn’t feel nearly as lonely. “Yeah, she sure did.”

 

“When did you lose her, Cas?”

 

“Three years ago, in the big ice storm. That big pile up that happened suddenly out on 75.” Cas shook his head and drew a deep breath. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault,” he explained. “The ice started coming down, everyone was just trying to get home. I wasn’t the only one who lost someone that day.”

 

“I remember hearing about it.”

 

Castiel appreciated Dean’s directness. Most people shied away from the subject, fumbling and bumbling, wanting to convey sorrow and sympathy but unable to really understand the depth of such loss. He knew Dean understood.

 

“She loved you, you know,” Dean pushed on. “She wouldn't want you to be lonely or sad.”

 

Cas turned to Dean, to stare up at him, surprised. “How could you know? You never met her.”

 

“She put a turtle on your desk, to take care of you,” Dean explained. He shrugged his shoulder in a failed attempt at nonchalance. “I dunno… I’d do something like that if I cared about someone. And if I maybe wanted to give that someone a bit of a tease,” he smirked. “Sounds like love to me.”

 

Cas’ heart began to race inside his chest. He wanted to scratch at the insanely nervous itch on the back of his neck, but he knew that would give him away. It felt like he had been alone for so long.

 

He cleared his throat. “Uh, ah, so tell me about these guys.” He turned to the enclosures in front of them. You gave them names?”

 

“Yep! Page and Plant.”

 

“And what are you going to do with them?”

 

“Well, see, I kind of had this idea. I was hoping you could help me with it.” Dean reached up and removed the top glass of one of the male’s enclosures, and set it aside. Then he removed the top from the other male enclosure and set it aside as well. 

 

“Dean, what are doing?”

 

“I’m going to move him. I’m going to put them together.”

 

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Cas asked, slightly panicked, realizing, of course, that this had very little to do with the actual turtles. “What if they don’t get along? Or if the first turtle misses his mate too much?”

 

But Dean had already picked up the second male box turtle and held it out for Cas see. “Here. I want you to take him.”

 

“ME?!”

 

“Yeah, you put him in.”

 

For a long moment Cas and Dean just stared at one another. Cas, despite his own nervousness,  could see that Dean was trying his best NOT to show his own nerves.

 

“You want me to put him in there?”

 

“Yes, I do.”

 

Cas carefully took the small animal into his hands, and for just a moment he cradled it against his chest. The shell was smooth and cool against his fingers, but the poor little guy was trembling against him. “He’s scared,” Cas cooed, suddenly feeling badly for the small reptile.

 

“Yes, well,” Dean flushed, his eyes turning sad. “He knows he’s second choice and that he’ll never quite measure up. Still, he just wants to be given a chance. He’s trying to be a good turtle.”

 

Cas gasped. His’ chest constricted, tightened around his heart to the point of physical pain at hearing Dean’s words.

 

Carefully, so carefully, Castiel reached over and laid the box turtle down inside the enclosure with the other male turtle, and replaced the glass. The reaction was immediate as the two started crawling towards each other and playfully bumping over toy logs in their enclosure.

 

Cas then turned quickly and took Dean’s face between his hands, making him look straight into his serious, almost scowling face. “You are NOT second choice Dean Winchester! Another turtle may have gotten there before you did, but that does not make you second choice. You’re not a replacement, and you don’t have to worry about measuring up! You’ve always been a good turtle!”

 

“Cas --”

 

But Cas was on a roll and couldn’t stop now. Funny, how he seemed to have frequent drama in the reptile section. He had no idea why that was. “But this turtle is terrified to lose its mate again. I can’t! If you come into my enclosure then I can’t lose you too! You have to understand that, Dean.”

 

“I’m already in your enclosure! Don’t you understand that?” Dean all but begged, gripping onto the lapels of Cas’ trench coat. “I’m already here. I’ve been here. I don’t want to leave!”

 

“Dean --”

 

“Why are we still talking about turtles?”

 

Cas smashed his lips to Dean’s. It was graceless, without finesse or poetry, but that didn’t matter at all because there was so much warmth, love, lust, comfort, and that wonderful, overwhelming sense of home that had been missing for so long. 

 

They kissed and kissed, and Dean wrapped his arms tight around Cas’ back. And they just kept kissing. Cas learned the taste of the roof of Dean’s mouth, and the way Dean squirmed when Cas dug his fingers into the roundness of his behind. Cas was reminded of just how much he loved having that spot under his right ear suckled and licked.

 

Honestly, they didn’t know how long they spent there in the middle of the reptile aisle, groping and kissing happily. And they may have kept on the entire night if it hadn’t been for a polite coughing sound at the end of the aisle. 

 

Dean and Cas yanked their faces away from one another and took a respectable step back. But, Cas was gratified to see, they still kept a hand on one another. Dean was gripping the dangling belt of his trench coat, and Castiel had a loose hand wrapped in the front pocket of Dean’s work apron.

 

“Yeah, uh, sorry to interrupt.” Sam didn’t actually sound sorry at all. In fact, he looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh. “I know you two have a lot to, uh, talk about. But it’s almost six, and Dean is my only ride home. So, what’s the plan here?”

 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed. “Ugh! God! Sam, you are such a butt! Did I ever tell you that? You are such a BUTT!”

 

“You may have mentioned it once or twice.” Sam smirked.

 

“Here.” Dean fumbled around inside his pocket till he fished out his keys. He removed the set of Impala keys and then he tossed them to Sam. “Get the hell out of here, kid, you’re cramping my style!”

 

Sam didn’t even question it, he just caught the keys in his hand and turned on his heel. But when he was around the corner he yelled out, “CONGRATULATIONS, BIG BROTHER! DON’T FORGET CASTIEL -- IF YOU HURT HIM, I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!”

 

“DULY NOTED!” 

 

Cas laughed while Dean just buried his red face in his hands. 

 

“Ah God! Why do I put up with him? Why do I put up with you?” Dean lifted his head and turned a smirking, playful eye to Cas.

 

“Because he’s your brother and you would do anything for him,” Castiel answered. He stepped right up close to Dean again, into his personal space. “And because I’m about to take you home to my enclosure and mate with you!”

 

Dean swallowed with an audible click. “Yeah. Yeah, there is that.”

 

“Just as soon as you mark a SOLD sign on Page and Plant.” Cas pressed a quick kiss to Dean’s waiting lips. “They can come home with us tomorrow.” 

 


End file.
